Mirage by Christina Rossetti

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Christina Rossetti
Christina Rossetti
by Christina Rossetti
The hope I dreamed of was a dream,
was but a dream; and now I wake,
exceeding comfortless and worn and old,
for a dreams sake.
I hang my harp upon a tree,
a weeping willow in a lake;
I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapped.
for a dreams sake.
Lie still, lie still my breaking heart;
my silent heart, lie still and break:
life and the world, and mine old self are changed,
for a dreams sake.
Another poem from The Weekend Book by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) the Victorian Pre-Raphaelite poet was a major voice in the arts movement and considered a successor to Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Dave Young – Good Poetry Licks
website: http://www.daveyoungpoet.wordpress.com

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